The Dream Thread - Page 4

This is the oldest dream I remember, I think it was nine or ten years ago.

So me and my family are up by this lake in the middle of nowhere, called Tunnsjøflyan. We usually go there for about a week every summer to fish, relax and just have a good time.


something like this

There is a small dirt road that goes right up to the lake, so we brought a camping trailer with us so we wouldn't have to sleep in tents. So the day goes by, we go out in the boat, we light a campfire, we roast some fish. As the evening draws closer, the sky gets darker and darker. I remember that I thought it was a bit strange, as it never really gets dark during summer where I live.

So anyways, we finally call it a day and go inside. The trailer we brought with us wasnt exactly big, probably around 5x2 meters, and I wondered how the hell we would all fit in there. When I got inside, however, the trailer was as big as a livingroom, with a huge bed in the middle of it. Not deterred by the fact that our trailer defied the laws of physics, we went to sleep. My sleep is uneasy that night, and with good reason! I wake up at around 3 am and look around me in the dark trailer. All my family members are sleeping soundly. I reach over to the night table and turn on the light. That's when I see them.



Fucking raptors!

About five or six huge velociraptors have surrounded my bed, staring at me with malicious bloodthirst in their eyes. I freeze up, completely terrified. The raptors croak and hiss as they stare at me. They seem to be talking to each other. I panic and shake desperately at my mom to wake her up. That's when I realize that my entire family are skeletons! And not like, dead skeletons either. There fucking living skeletons! They sit up, one at a time, and look blankly at me with their empty eye sockets. Their lipless, white mouths seem to be grinning at me. I realize that they aren't going to help me. What can I do now?

As the raptors circle around the bed, smirking with their razor sharp teeth, and croaking with carnivorous glee, I notice something out of the corner of my eye. There, on the night table, lies a remote control!



A MOTHER FUCKING REMOTE CONTROL!!!

The head raptor is preparing to strike, and I realize what I have to do. I mobilize all my strenght and throw myself sideways out of the bed like some 80's action hero, grabbing the remote as i fly by. I land on the floor, get up on my knees and point it at the raptors. Just as the raptors all lunge towards me, I change the channel.

All of the sudden, I'm standing in the driveway outside my cousin's house. The raptors are gone. So is the remote. I look at my cousin, dazed and confused. He just nods at me, and we go inside.

Then I woke up.

This is a more recent one, I believe I dreamt this an easter three or four years ago. Again, some details are missing, and something just seems wrong with it. I can't put my finger on it, but every time i think about it, it feels like I've forgotten something important.

So I'm standing at Skagen, at the north tip of Denmark. Don't ask me why, cause I don't remember. If you haven't been there, Skagen is like a huge sand dune that just kind of disappears into the ocean. It's also where the currents of the North and Baltic Sea meets, resulting in strong undercurrents that can pull a grown man to the bottom of the ocean.



I'm standing at the tip of this sand dune, watching as the ocean brushes against the shore, washing parts of it away, bringing parts of it back. A cold breeze sweeps over the landscape, bringing chills down my spine. I can feel something unusual is going to happen. And I'm right.

The wind picks up in strenght, and it seems like both the air and the ocean are charging towards me. The gentle splashes of the heave are replaced by a thunderous roar, as massive waves of black water slam against the shore. A nameless fear possesses me, and I look up into the sky. Massive, blood red clouds cover the sky that was blue moments ago. And like a deadly rain from a hellish sky, they come falling down.



FUCKING STICKMEN!!!!!111

Hundreds, no, thousands of stickmen come falling down from the blood red sky. Their heads are empty and faceless, and they all sing the same childish tune. Imagine a thousand kids singing the same incoherent song in perfect symphony. I can't explain why, but it creeped me the fuck out. For some reason I can't remember how the tune went.

As the stickmen land, they start attacking people. Their fists crush people's faces like wet paper bags, and their hands rip people apart like earthworms. The last thing I remember is a stickman running up behind me and planting his fist in my face.

Then I woke up.

The room was dark. An unseen source of haunting light projected across its only two occupants – a standing woman with dark hair to her shoulders and a dead man, held up by some unseen device. Both were lit only to their shoulders, equal in height an still, surrounded by a grand nothingness.
From the darkness, the woman drew a needle – empty, but not withdrawn for the use of injection regardless. Her soft hands brought the needle up to his throat. With one swift motion, she punctured his Adam’s Apple. Slowly, the needle was pulled back from the bloodless wound, and it dropped soundlessly to the presumed floor.
Again from the blackness around, the woman – nameless, with no identity – summoned a small, but carefully sharpened pen knife. Again her hand rose, gripping the knife, to the man’s throat. With steady precision, she inserted the tip of the blade into the minute hole created by the needle. Silently and with deliverance, she expanded the wound upwards and downwards, forming a still bloodless vertical incision, a clean line down the length of the man’s throat.
Dropping the penknife, the woman took hold of each flap of skin, peeling back the weak flesh, exposing the bloody mess existing beneath. A smile crept upon her face, her pretty features hidden by a mask of cruelty.
In two quick, thrusting motions the woman drove her right hand into the man’s throat and tore from within a fistful of bleeding, crimson flesh.
Satisfied with her now completed deed, the woman walked away into the darkness gripping her ball of gore, still bearing her cruel, yet beautiful smile.